


If I Made You Feel Lonely

by WayFish



Category: London Spy
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5352896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayFish/pseuds/WayFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was tawdry and cliché, but he needed touching and vulnerability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Made You Feel Lonely

Danny didn’t want to perpetuate tawdry clichés about men needing sex, gay men needing sex. But he did have needs. Wants at least. And those wants are valid, he told himself and the empty room, as he lay alone in Alex’s bed.

Alex had gone for his run. He wouldn’t be back for an hour- Danny turned his head to look at the clock –or 45 minutes at the least. And Danny was morning hard. And they hadn’t had sex since, well, that first and only time they had had sex. And he wanted. He’s was a simple man, of simple pleasures, and he just wanted: a good slow morning wank, then a cigarette and some coffee. 

That was all.

Alex didn't keep coffee in his flat. If he smoked he'd have to go out on the terrace. And anyway- on the other hand, on the other hand, he thinks maybe it would be rude to do it- Alex was so concerned with rudeness -in someone else’s bed without them there, without telling them, without at least inviting them to get involved. And Danny, well Danny was just so concerned with fucking this up, he wasn’t sure if it was worth it to take the chance, to even to ask.

But maybe.

For all he knew, maybe Alex would say yes.

And that was a thought.

Alex sweaty, back from his run. Alex in those gray jogging sweats that he favored. Alex with all that adrenaline. Alex laid out on the white sheets so Danny could get a hand down those gray jogging sweats. Danny groaned.

It was a hell of a thought. But it wasn’t helping. And he only had 30 minutes now.

Danny kicked off the sheets and duvet. But then he got cold, lying there, staring at the ceiling, so he pulled them back up, tight around his shoulders. Because maybe it wasn’t just a want. And maybe it wasn’t just about getting off and getting coffee. Danny wrapped his arms around himself.

He and Alex slept together, near one another, close but not much else. . It had been a month, that they’d been doing this, whatever this was. And it was still rare that they touched. They might kiss. Alex might reach out and take his hand. But he had never held Danny. And Alex was never- not with him anyway -relaxed enough, uncomposed or vulnerable enough to let Danny hold onto him that way.

It had been a month that they'd been doing this and Danny thought he could be patient about the sex. He knew that he could. But he was starting to wonder when this cold distance was going to give. It had to give. Because god, Danny needed closeness sometimes.

Maybe it was tawdry and cliché, but he needed touching and vulnerability.

He needed someone to touch him like they cared about him.

And he was sure Alex cared about him. He needed that to the be true the same way he needed this, but-

Danny turned onto his back, splayed his hands across his own chest the way that Alex did when he would lay there on the other side of the bed, so far away from him. And Danny let his hands start to drift. Danny slid his own hands down, slow, over his chest, and sighed. He closed his eyes and slipped his palms along the flat of his stomach, because if he’d learned anything from all his copious experience it was that if someone didn’t- couldn’t, didn’t know how to –care for you then you had to take care of yourself, even if it was a cheap imitation. He curled his hands down over his hips, cupped the inside of his own thigh.

He didn’t hear the door open.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-“

“Fuck.” Danny withdrew his hands, feeling foolish, like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Because Alex sometimes made him feel like that, like a damned child. “You’re, ah, early,” he said.

Alex’s face was a mix of confusion and exasperation, a look that was becoming all too familiar to Danny. “I passed this bakery and I thought you might- so I stopped and…” He hefted a large takeaway bag, as though that would somehow explain everything, make everything better. “Should I go?” he asked.  

“No. I didn’t mean to-“

Alex looked everywhere but at him, like he was searching for an exit, an escape from the conversation. “Shower, I’ll go shower and-“

_How else do you know?_

“No, please. Come here to me?”  
Alex put the take away back on the dresser, and that was something, coming from him, the man who believed in everything in its place. He toed off his trainers- no shoes on the bedroom rug, Danny almost laughed –and came to sit beside him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just-“

How else would he know? Danny threw his arms around him, clutched up fistfuls of his damp t-shirt. And Alex stiffened and jerked back. But Danny held on, buried his face against the side of his neck.

“I missed you,” Danny said.

He felt Alex relaxed by degrees- as much as Alex ever relaxed. The muscles in his shoulders smoothed out. His breath evened. Eventually, eventually, Alex brought his arms up around him. A deep long held sigh escaped him- a pathetic, embarrassing sound –but Danny couldn’t help himself.

“I just needed…”

Alex’s hands skittered, unsure, along the small of back, the cage of his ribs. “I’m sorry,” he said.

And Danny shushed him, tugged up on his t-shirt. “This, off-“   

“ _Danny.“_

He could feel him tense again and kissed the corner of Alex’s mouth, to soften out the harsh worried line there.

“Just this. You don't have to do anything else. Just be close to me.”

And Alex conceded. The t-shirt was tossed away. He was so beautiful that Danny didn’t think he could speak. He pulled Alex back into bed, draped himself across his chest to touch as much of him as he could, took him by the wrist and urged him to put his arms back around him.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said again.

There legs tangled and Danny hummed happily. Alex was warm and he smelled of clean sweat and part of Danny wanted to rut against him like a dog. He was also, very suddenly, completely furious. Furious that he had to always be the one who was reassuring Alex, coaxing and comforting him. He tucked his head under Alex’s chin.

“Harder,” Danny said.

He was furious that it sounded like he was begging. He was furious that he had to beg.

Alex pressed a kiss into his hair, tightened his grip. The heat in Danny’s chest tempered out a little.

“If I made you feel lonely,” Alex said. “I am sorry.”

He still kind of wanted to rut against him like a dog. He was still just a little angry. And he knew that he was supposed to tell Alex that it was alright. That he shouldn’t be sorry. But instead he leaned up to kiss him.

“Thank you,” he said. “I needed this.”

**Author's Note:**

> The most interesting thing about this show, for me anyway, is that Ben Whishaw and What's His Face have zero chemistry. I guess this is a response to that?


End file.
